Isobel de Bourbon
by AnnaRomanoff92
Summary: A King caught between duty and honour. A Princess forced from her homeland. Her warrior left behind to guard the man who kept them apart. When Isobel de Bourbon is sent from France to marry the Prince of Luxembourg her heart is broken. Kept a prisoner all her life, she longs for the lonely halls of Chateau de Fontainebleau if only they will bring her closer to the man she loves.
1. A King is Born

Essentially my imagining if Queen Anne had born a daughter before Louis and Philippe, and if that daughter had warmed the heart of the unfeeling Fabien Marchal. I do not own Versailles, its characters or any other intellectual property of the show. I just let the characters run wild in my mind.

Chapter One : A King is Born

\- - - 1638 - - -

"What is it?" Queen Anne breathed heavily.

"A boy, your Majesty" spoke the midwife softly. She swaddled the newborn in muslin and handed him to his waiting mother.

"Thanks be to God," the Queen whispered as she kissed her son on the top of his head.

The door to the bedchamber swung open, and the King stormed into the room. "Well, what have we this time?" he roared.

"A son, dear husband. A healthy Prince of France." Cooed the Queen.

The King approached the bed, lifting his index finger and trailing it along the little wisps of dark hair that covered his son's head. He glanced at his young wife, and then strode out of the room the way he came. "Have the governess inform Isobel that the fate of France no longer rests on her shoulders" he shouted back, and then he was gone from sight.

Queen Anne looked down at her son once more. "My darling boy, my Prince, my Louis" she whispered as she kissed his head once more.


	2. Death of the King

Essentially my imagining if Queen Anne had born a daughter before Louis and Philippe, and if that daughter had warmed the heart of the unfeeling Fabien Marchal. I do not own Versailles, its characters or any other intellectual property of the show. I just let the characters run wild in my mind.

Chapter Two : Death of the King

\- - - 1643 - - -

"Your Highness, it's time." The governess said softly.

Princess Isobel de Bourbon stared blankly at herself in her spotted looking glass. Five years ago she was the sole heir to the throne of France. She knew at the tender age of three what her future would entail. She watched her father at every opportunity, hoping to one day make him proud.

Then her bother Louis was born, pushing her down the ladder to second in line. If her brother lived to adulthood he would no doubt father children of his own, removing her from the direct line of succession altogether. As if one son wasn't enough her mother went ahead and had another, Philippe.

With the birth of her second brother, Isobel's mother all but forgot her completely. She was sent to the farthest wing of the Chateau de Saint-Germain-en-Laye, and was only allowed to play with her brothers once a week. Louis was a terrible playmate. He was only amicable when the game was going the way he wished. Philippe bent to his will, every time. Louis would always have his sister play the most ordinary and mundane roles, more so to further rub in how far she had fallen from her birthright.

"You're Highness, they are waiting" the governess chided.

Her father died four days ago. Tuberculosis is what the doctors had said. Her mother was in full mourning, but Isobel knew it was a show. She was now the Queen Mother and Regent of the new King of France. Louis was stoic and strong, she hadn't yet seen Philippe. She stood, smoothing out the front of her gown. One last glance in the looking glass, and she was off to watch her father's casket leave the Chateau and head to the Basilica Cathedral of Saint Denis, where he would rest for eternity.


	3. A Princess' Prison

Essentially my imagining if Queen Anne had born a daughter before Louis and Philippe, and if that daughter had warmed the heart of the unfeeling Fabien Marchal. I do not own Versailles, its characters or any other intellectual property of the show. I just let the characters run wild in my mind.

Chapter Three : A Princess' Prison

\- - - 1654 - - -

_Louis turned sixteen today. _

_He officially has two years before he becomes King outright and sheds our mother's protective shackles. _

_Philippe is fourteen and there are already rumours of marriage to Henrietta of England.  
_

_Louis is all but legally married to our cousin Maria-Theresa of Spain.  
_

_I am but a short year from my twentieth birthday, and I am quite certain I will never be granted permission to marry. _

_With each year that passes I convince myself I desire a marriage less and less. _

_When I was born I was ensured the right to choose my own husband from the selection of Europe's finest eligible bachelors. _

_Now I will be used as a political pawn for my mother's gain. _

_For Louis' gain. _

_For France's gain. _

_I will not be allowed to marry of my own volition, nor for love. _

_Sometimes I wonder if I am princess or prisoner. _


	4. A Prisoner No Longer

Essentially my imagining if Queen Anne had born a daughter before Louis and Philippe, and if that daughter had warmed the heart of the unfeeling Fabien Marchal. I do not own Versailles, its characters or any other intellectual property of the show. I just let the characters run wild in my mind.

Chapter Four : A Prisoner No Longer

\- - - 1656 - - -

"Your Highness, a letter for you… from Saint-Germain-en-Laye"

"Hmm… my mother, or my brother. Shall we make a wager?" Isobel lulled her head over the side of her chaise longue, reaching her hand out for the letter. "My money is on Philippe" she smiled sarcastically.

Isobel broke the royal seal and unfolded the paper. Her light grey eyes scanned the page quickly and then she brought the page to her lips, briefly inhaling the smell of the Chateau she once called home. "Colette, fetch my trunks. We're being escorted to Saint-Germain immediately."

"Highness?" Colette looked confused, and slightly worried.

"Do not fret my dear friend, my brother has called us home to join him at his new court. My mother is now and forever more the Queen Mother and no longer the regent to our beloved King. We will join Louis and Philippe and enjoy all the court life has to offer us." Isobel smiled jubilantly at her young lady-in-waiting. Colette nodded her head and left without another word to pack the traveling trunks.

Isobel sunk to the floor, her skirts billowing up around her, surrounding her in a cloud of embroidered silk. She kissed the letter once more, confirming the scent had no traces of her mother's familiar perfumes.

"Has no one ever taught you it is rude to stare Monsieur?" she quipped. Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and after a brief pause, she swirled in one fluent motion to a standing position. She was now facing the doorway that Colette had just exited through, a man filled the entire frame before her.

He was positive he hadn't made a sound as he approached her doorway. The young maid had failed to close the door as she left in a concentrated flurry. The Princess was smaller in frame than he had assumed she would be. Her mother the Queen, though still holding most of the beauty of her youth, had allowed the comforts of palace life to expand her once slight figure. Her slender form looked incredibly delicate amongst the waves of her gowns billowing around her on the floor.

When she stood and turned to face him he was momentarily struck by her height. He had once again made the assumption that she would be shorter, as her mother. Clearly her Highness had inherited her father's tall stature. He noted her regal posture. Everything about her was dignified and stately. Her gaze, though controlled, exuded great knowledge and power. She was born a Queen, and although she had dropped in rank since then, she had kept her birthright close to her. Her voice broke him from his thoughts.

"I pray my brother has sent more than just you to accompany us back to court. Word travels fast, we are not kept naïve of the reports of robberies along my dear brothers roads." Isobel flashed an icy smile, challenging the stranger to defend his King.

He met her ice with steel. "His Majesty sends an envoy Your Highness, you will be well safeguarded against any who should foolishly seek you harm" his voice remained completely monotonous.

She lifted an eyebrow, understanding that this man would not bend to her displays of authority.

Colette rushed back into the room through a small side door. "Highness, your things have been packed in the travelling trunks. Robért will close up the bigger rooms and tend the palace in your absence. All that is left is your personal things and we are ready to embark." She gave a small curtsey and headed back through the door she had entered from.

Isobel hadn't taken her eyes off the man standing in the doorway. She let her perfectly arched eyebrow drop into its natural place.

"I need only half an hour to prepare my things and change my clothes, I will meet you in the court yard." She swore she saw his lip twitch as if he was about to smile. Something flashed in his eyes, but he turned too quickly for her to figure out just what it was.

"You have a quarter of an hour," he drawled as he turned and strode down the hall, "we leave whether your royal hind is in its carriage or not Highness." He threw the last part over his shoulder carelessly.

Isobel knew his words were to be taken seriously, but that didn't stop her temper from flaring at his blatant mistreatment of her noble rank. _'You'll pay for your insolence Monsieur' _she thought, satisfying her rage slightly.

"Colette" she called out, knowing her maid was on the other side of the door she had escaped through moments ago. Sure enough Colette reappeared instantly, giving a small curtsey. "I'll need you to help me dress, _quickly_." She stressed. She was finally being given a chance to join her family at court once again. She would not be missing her carriage over some corset strings.

'_My brother will learn all to soon of how his errand boy speaks to a Princess of France. Until then, I must bend to his commands.' _

Colette stripped her of her gowns and replaced them with hardier fabrics, more sturdy for travelling. It would be a two-day journey back to Chateau de Saint-Germain-en-Laye. The envoy no doubt made it here in much less time, but returning with trunks and a Princess would call for slower speeds and more frequent stopping. Isobel was sure this was a main factor of her escort's foul mood.


End file.
